


A Waltz In The Woods With My Brother

by kyburg



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Captain America: The First Avenger Compliant, Gen, Go For Broke, Hogan's Heroes - Freeform, Howling Commandos - Freeform, Lot of liberties taken with Norse Mythology as well, The Warriors Three - Freeform, WWII, WWII lots of liberties taken with the history, war buddies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:11:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8350474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyburg/pseuds/kyburg
Summary: When you have no loyalty shown you, what makes you wager everything on gaining it from those who would imprison you?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FrostyEmma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostyEmma/gifts).



> Welcome to the third Marvel POC exchange!
> 
> The notes on the request asked for Jim Morita, and happy endings - nothing dark, happy stuff. Surprise me!
> 
> I think this qualifies! Hope you like it!

One was rarely summoned alone to appear before Odin the Allfather, he simply didn't do it.  Hogan, in his long experience with the Asgardians, could count the times he had been summoned with his own name apart from Odin's son, Thor...never.  Introduced at court, brought together to battle, celebratory feasts and fetes; all of these, but summoned by his own name for an audience?

 

Unheard of.  And to meet in the hall of Heimdall as well?  What was it the Allfather wanted him to see?  Thor had often had need of his counsel, having found it sound...but his father.  That was another matter entirely.

 

The summons had been brief, even curt.  "The Allfather has need of you, Hogan.  You are to meet him in Heimdall's Hall at None today."  No reason, or cause occurred to Hogan, and having given him the summons, the messenger had left as swiftly as he came.  The fact the messenger had chosen a moment early in the day when Hogan was easily found alone was not lost on him.

 

Hogan, not of Asgard.  Hogan, the refugee.  Hogan, the last of his race and caretaker of their history.

 

Anything else could be gained from Thor, Fandarel, Volstag...Sif, even.   Summoned alone, it was to act as a representative of a dead race, something his long association with Asgard had taught him over the years.  He was Other, and that carried its own weight.

 

What could be salvaged of his home and kin, had been.  There was nothing further to seek for, strive to regain of any home beyond Asgard, beyond what the Allfather and his Aesir had been able to grant him.  But his alien status remained, he was valuable and other in the same breath; cherished and suspect, learned in ways not of Asgard, yet one of them as well.

 

He spent the morning and midday with the Allfather's sons as he did most days, teaching what he had learned at his father's knee to the still callow princes while listening to their questions and giving what counsel he could.

 

Thor, bright and outgoing, Loki, shadowy and clever but equally as charming in his own way as the Odinson.  As they raced towards that golden afternoon of Asgardian adulthood, Hogan found himself more and more at peace with his role as their mentor and good counsel, even as it sharpened the sense of loss of his own kin in himself.

 

"Friend Hogan, your mind and heart are far away this day.  What memory pains you so?"

 

It was Loki who asked, but the glance tossed over his shoulder to Thor only confirmed it had been a shared concern as Thor nodded in assent, raising his gaze to meet Hogan's as his eyes darkened in concern.

 

"Tis nothing, my princes.  Your father calls me to council later today, and I am preparing myself for a battle of words with him."

 

"You did nothing to warrant such attention, surely, " Thor began.  "You did not taunt Hati or Skoll?"

 

"Nor filch apples from the Idunn," he growled good-naturedly.  "Yet, I suspect I know of one who might attempt such a prank - yes?"  The smile that grew on Thor's young face was infectious, as a quieter version mirrored itself on Loki's as well.  "Come, it is no concern of yours, perhaps he only wishes to ask me for my granther's recipe for winter mead or some such foolishness.  Show me again how you defend your blind side, from the ground this time...and use each other's chosen blades.  Begin!"

 

The hours passed, and the day turned - the midday meal shared at the long tables in the hall, conversations both spoken and shouted with equal interest as the bread and roasted meats were swiftly consumed.  

 

But the hour None arrived, and Hogan found himself in the presence of Heimdall, with Odin standing at the edge of Bifrost looking down into Midgard, his chin cupped in one hand, deep in thought.

 

"Odin Allfather, you have need of me?"

 

The gaze the elder monarch turned towards him, his one eye weary but still alert and discerning as he met his eyes.  "Hogan, my old friend.  Come by me, and see a conundrum.  It would appear the Midgardians have taken sides against themselves, chosen Champions to lead their armies, and yet not all is what it seems."

 

"Isn't it ever so with them?"  Hearing his voice take on a growl in spite of himself, he crossed the room to stand at Odin's side, noting Heimdall sparing him a look as he passed by but said nothing.

 

"Their lives are short and brutish by our standards," Odin said quietly, stroking his chin, "They spark into life so quickly, burn as bright as stars and fade away before one can even blink.  Yet their world continues to change, evolve and grow at a prodigious rate.  They encourage the future to stand on the shoulders of the present, the past with such faith - all the while trying to obliterate each other without really knowing why.  We battle for worlds, old friend.  Our world, our lands, our people...our beloved Asgard...its very strength exists because we live together in peace, knowing if we squabble amongst ourselves, we would surely perish in the face of opposition from without."

 

As it was ever so with the Allfather, Hogan knew he only had to give assent that he had heard him with a nod of his head in silence.  Such behavior had garnered him a taciturn reputation, and his countenance was stern enough to curtail any unnecessary conversation on his part.  Hogan remembered his father and grandfather being much the same, stern and forbidding in manner while deeply loving and committed within.  Folding his arms, he looked down along Odin's line of sight, trying to scry into what the Allfather wanted him to observe for himself.  "They are at war.  Again."

 

"There are enough of them now that they are aware of each other.  Their world is small, their habitable lands few.  They have made countries and nations, unaware such things are mere flights of fancy.  They have seen each other faces, and know they are not alike.  There is enough, but they allow some to have plenty while others know want.  They know not what to do about these things, so they war.  They speak of their entire world being at war for the second time, and they despair over finding a way to end it."

 

"And they have chosen Champions?"

 

The elder man nodded.  "They lead with great skill and charisma, the ones who want nothing but peace - which gives me hope...and yet, it is not they that have caught my attention.  See here, in this land - one created by supplanting the people who lived there with people from every other land in Midgard.  Theirs is an uneasy alliance, ever changing and evolving.  They are learning the value of their differences, yet they are frightened and intimated by them.  They still look into each other's faces and see race - and nothing more.  Even when they labor and war, shoulder to shoulder through their brief, impossible lives."

 

Odin sighed, shaking his head slowly.  "They imprison those who share the race of their enemy and nothing more.  And then they take their sons as warriors to fight their battles, and I find myself humbled to witness how fiercely they fight in the service of champions who had imprisoned them without any just cause."

 

"They were not enslaved?"  Cocking an eyebrow at Odin's slow headshake, Hogan looked deeper as Odin grew quiet and did the same.

 

"That land had enslaved others," Hogan hissed as recognition hit him.  "Their history is littered with oppressions and broken promises, Allfather.  It is the way with these children.  They squabble over crusts and rags, what puzzle could any of them pose to you?"

 

It was the slow smile that grew on Odin's face that became the warning of what was to come.  "What makes a man know right in the midst of such wrong, my old friend?  They do not fight for their race, my son.  Like all who fight by their side, they are warring for ideas as well as territory.  How is that they know that, in the midst of such injustice?  It is not their Champion who taught them this, lead them to this place.  Convinced them of it.  They knew it - in their heart of hearts, their very being...it is why they fight on, despite every reason they should not."

 

Looking back to his view of the world below, Odin continued to observe with renewed interest.  "Short-lived, short-changed as they are, I would not have expected to find this within Midgard and I find it a conundrum indeed."  And then he turned to look Hogan full in the face.  "Old friend, you came to us when everything had been taken from you, root and branch and Asgard has done nothing but benefit from your loss.  Have you ever felt we imprisoned or kept you from any liberty as a result?"

 

"You would not.  It is unthinkable," he responded in an angry hiss.  "Asgard fought by my side to defeat the one who took my world from me, the Mogul who had nothing but conquest on his mind when he ended my lineage, my people.  And then you let me choose to come make my home with you.  It is not the life I would have preferred, but it has been all the richer for it nonetheless."

 

"What if we had been the conquerors, your oppressors...and seeing what we had done, attempted to make amends by allowing you the life you lead today, hmm?  Would you find it within yourself to fight alongside us, say - against the Jotun - in equal fraternity?"

 

"Impossible."  For Hogan, there were no words as he tossed his head angrily.  "How could you trust me?  Asgard has conquered other worlds, 'tis true but only to enable peace to win the day.  Something I see you struggle to teach your sons daily, Allfather."

 

"And yet...in Midgard, it is happening.  Why."  Dropping his hands, Odin clapped them together, rubbing them as he announced his decision.  "You are to go to them, Hogan.  I want you to see what you can learn from the heart of such a one, observe and report back to me."

 

"I am to go to Midgard?  In what guise, Allfather?  I am hardly one of them - "

 

"Your countenance is similar enough to allow you to pass, and I see such a one that could use your assistance.  A brief moment, my friend.  He is nearly alone, and the battle goes badly for him.  Will you go to him?"

 

"If my liege wills it, of course Allfather.  Is it he you refer to?"

 

A soldier, alone except for a wounded comrade in the woods outside a command post holding prisoners of war, commanded to liberate the captured soldiers within...but down to his last man.  As he turned his face to the night sky, Hogan felt his heart turn over in his chest at the fire still in his eyes, despite the knowledge he was fighting on alone.   Worthy indeed.

 

Help was coming, a Champion on a two-wheeled contraption hurtling toward them alone but even that help was hours away.

 

"I will go, Allfather.  Send me."

 

###

 

Whatever Jim Morita was, warm enough was not one of them, and lonely was the second.  Barely thinking about what kind of report he was going to file with the CO when he finally laid eyes on the man, Jim reached out to touch the shoulder of George Nishino, the little left above ground where Jim had buried him up to his neck and piled leaves and stick on top to keep him warm.

 

George...didn't stir, and was so very very cold.  Jim had managed to stop the bleeding, but George had taken more than one hit and if help didn't arrive soon, nothing Jim could do out in the field would make much difference.

 

They were the only ones left in their company, and still the forces holding the battalion they had been commanded to liberate held their positions, despite the best efforts put forth by the One-Puka-Puka under Jim's leadership.

 

And now, it began to rain.  It was late fall, and while it had not begun to snow yet, the air this far north in Europe was cold enough that the water falling made Jim hastily throw up a lean-to, hang it if the German saw it, over George to keep him dry.

 

When the lightning cracked not fifty feet away from him, Jim threw up an arm to shield his face and then dropped it quickly as he both felt and saw the heat of fire from a copse of trees that had caught fire.

 

It lit up the little clearing like a set of klieg lights and both Jim and George were as obvious as cream and sugar at a tea party.  Quickly scrambling to his feet to find cover, he found himself pulled up short from behind and then back into the trees by another Nisei soldier, his finger to his lips as he was turned to face him.

 

"My buddy - George - we gotta go get him!"

 

The other man only nodded silently, his face grave.  "And we shall, friend.  Let the fire distract them while we find a way in - "

 

"Buddy, I don't know where you came from, but there's no way in there - we've been trying for days!"

 

"There's a way.  Let me show it to you.  There is only one place for for George, and it is not out here.  Help is coming, we only need to get to shelter and wait for it to arrive."

 

Jim wasn't sure what to expect, but watching the new guy walk over to the burning trees and chop them down so that they fell onto the encampment buildings holding their guys inside was probably the last thing.  "Are you crazy?  There's people in there - our people, man!"

 

"No, there are not.  Not for long, anyway," he answered gruffly.  "Mostly empty, places to keep things are there.  They are now busy, let's move your friend somewhere warm and dry - "

 

"Where would that be, smart guy?"

 

"Inside the gates.  To the rear."

 

Like they hadn't spent all of their ammo and guys trying to do just that.  Jim was beyond caring, knowing his mouth was hanging open as the blood drained out of his face.  "How long have you been here, anyway - "

 

But the other guy only neatly unburied George, hissed at his wounds as he carefully took him up and motioned with his head that Jim was to follow him.  "This way.  Now, if you want to live."

 

He had George.  Of course Jim followed him.

 

He was quick, Jim would give him that.  Also, silent as the grave, despite George's dead weight.

 

###

 

  
_Children._  The Allfather had sent him to play with children - and they were cruel in their play to make it worse.  Yes, the Bifrost had caught the trees in its path on fire as he had landed, and yes, some of the small magics all Asgardians carried were serving him well indeed.  They allowed Hogan to know the other man's shock and outrage, and allowed the other man to think he was dressed in clothing much like his own.  But he only knew the name of the badly injured man he carried and was not about to introduce himself until some basic courtesies were offered in return.

 

The enemy camp was much as he had seen - a hive of insects, once stirred up and occupied had no time to pay any attention to a handful of ants crawling in their shadow.

 

But once he had expressed his displeasure, the soldier took orders well enough it would seem.

 

There were barracks full of prisoners, cells and wards and every kind of containment such a place could offer.  Which meant, there were places to store the means to keep them captive.  Hogan found an emptied arsenal, all of the weapons and ammunition gone.  It smelled like gun oil, gunpowder and worse, but it was dry and warm, if dark.  

 

"Don't light a match, whatever you do.  Place will go up like a Roman candle."

 

"Not at all," he had replied, trying the light switch.  "This will suffice.  Bring the door close, but do not shut it completely."

 

Beds meant blankets.  Noting that some of the captives he'd seen had been wearing bandages, as poor a condition as they were in - Hogan swiftly went among them with as much stealth as speed would allow to obtain an armful of provisions.

 

"We're supposed to take this place," the soldier said as he came back with his bounty.  "What do ya got in mind?"

 

"Mayhem," he had purred back at him.  "But first, we will see to George.  But before even that, I will have your name.  What is it?"

 

"Private James T. Morita,  39698202...."  And then Hogan heard him to switch to a different language, more fluid and less harsh.   _"My family calls me Tiger."_  

 

_Torao._

Inclining his head, Hogan waited for the Allspeak to fill in a proper response.  "I am Private Bob M. Hogan," he answered.  " 17186525.   _I am known to my kin as Masato_."

 

"That's George Nishino, private too like me.  I don't know his Japanese name.  Might be Hawaiian, he's from Honolulu."  Letting Hogan work, the man named Tiger continued to talk quietly as Hogan saw to his comrade's injuries.  They were serious blows to his limbs, but not to his body and most of the damage was due to blood loss.  With care, he would heal but not if he had frozen to death outside in the ground.

 

"You said help was coming - "

 

"Yes, but only one man.  We'll have to be ready to help him."

 

His expression turned wry as he blew air and looked away.  "Yeah, that sounds about right.  We'll show them, won't we?"

 

He wasn't at all sure what he meant, but Hogan nodded firmly all the same.  "We will not fail."

 

"No sir, we won't.  Sounds like he's gotta be pretty special, they only sent one."

 

Hogan only chuckled.  "He wasn't ordered, and he did not ask to be sent."   _Champions rarely do_ , he thought to himself.

 

But the other man only whistled softly.  "I only got command of this whole shooting match by default of being the last guy standing.  But - you gotta keeping trying, yanno?  It's for everything, or it's for nothing at all.  Go for broke - "

 

"A wager, did you say?"

 

"Old gambling thing.  The Hawaiian guys brought it with 'em - when the jackpot is on the line, and you're set to take it all - or go out with nothing, you gotta take the chance.  You have to go for it - right?  It's crazy, but we all started out with nothing - worse than nothing, you know what I mean."

 

Perhaps he did, perhaps he did not but Hogan nodded and continued to listen all the same.

 

"See, we all got family back home.  Most of us - well, the Hawaiians anyway - their folks are still okay, but mine - they're out in the camps at Heart Mountain, and I'm doing this for them, y'see?  You from Hawaii too?"

 

Hogan had no idea where this Hawaii was, but giving assent was easier, so he did.

 

"Couple of days wasn't enough time to settle everything, so my folks lost a lot before they shipped us out.  Thought people knew better, but being Japanese?  You can say a lot, but just give me a chance to prove I'm loyal and I will - I have!  It's only a chance, but I'm taking it - because at the end of it all?  America is my home, it's where I belong and so do my folks, and they chose it over Japan and will every time.  It's right. They're right.  And given the chance, I can prove I'm American, through and through.  That's all I need.  A chance."

 

  
_So much given for only a chance to prove their loyalty,_ Hogan mused.  "We will not fail," Hogan intoned again with as much gravity as he could muster.  "They did not know our hearts when they did this injustice to us."

 

"Yeah, what you said," the tiger man answered, "We'll show them!   _Gambatte ne_?"

 

They found what little food was left, and they rested.  Going over the layout of the building with him, Hogan waited for the Champion to arrive and kick the hornet's nest over again, and allowed Jim Morita to lead his own team of escaped prisoners to freedom, slipping away in the confusion.  With hundreds of prisoners to free, he wasn't missed.

 

Taken back up by the Bifrost some time later, Odin allowed Hogan some respite before bringing him to him to report what he had found.

 

"Allfather, I report that Midgardians are possessed of both resilience of spirit and an appalling lack of good judgment."

 

Seated upon his throne, alone in the audience chamber, Odin leaned his head upon one hand as he rested his elbow upon the armrest.  "This was known.  Go on."

 

"They are also capable of much forgiveness, properly motivated."

 

"Motivated?  In what way?"

 

"When there is a chance of it being reciprocated.  Midgardians - in particular, this little band you found with your scrying - take their loyalties to heart, and do not grant them lightly, but when they do - it is with every part of their being.  Being accused of disloyalty, based on their race - is so galling, so unbelievable, they would give their very lives to disprove it.  How it is possible for them to serve such an unworthy master?  They see a chance to redeem them as well as themselves, Allfather.  Only a chance, and it's a poor wager but they're willing to take it."

 

"Only the worthy would understand such a concept."

 

"Even so.  I wish them all the luck we can grant in their pursuit.  I can only hope they survive as a race long enough to fulfill its promise."

 

"So you say it's a personal choice, my friend?"

 

"It is.  I can but admire the very spirit of it.  It lifts my heart in ways I had forgotten."

 

Odin grew thoughtful, his eyes unfocusing as his gaze drifted into midspace.  "My friend, would it surprise you to learn that the Champion has taken up that man as one of his own companions, valued and trusted before all others?"

 

"He was worthy indeed, Allfather.  I am pleased to hear it.  The Champion will be well served."

 

"What could he teach my sons, I wonder?  By the time they are of an age to learn the lesson, this man will be dead and perhaps his deeds will have been lost to memory."

 

"I will tell them of this man, my liege.  I can do that much."

 

"Yes, but you were not pressed into serving me after I took your home from you, and you were not of the enemy's people.  It is different.  How do you teach forgiveness at that level, hmm?"

 

At a loss, Hogan could only gape.  "I do not know, Allfather.  Perhaps that is what studying Midgard is for.  They must chose so quickly, their lives pass so fast with so much at stake."

 

"Indeed.  Perhaps it is."  Motioning him to rise, Odin got to his feet himself.  "You have the thanks of a grateful friend, Hogan the Grim.  You may take your leave of me now, with my blessing and as always, I am grateful that the fates brought you to us."

 

"Allfather...he will choose for himself, when the time comes.  Come now, I spend my days with him.  You know of what I speak."

 

Odin hesitated, but only Hogan's keen eye would have noted it.  "He is my son, and I love him."

 

"And you would not harm him for all of the riches in Asgard, Allfather.  But it will be his choice to know you accept his loyalty without question."

 

"Whether my son can accept what was done to him to become my son - that, Hogan?  I am less certain of."

 

"Loki's life will not pass quickly, Allfather.  And a truth withheld is a lie in deed.  That is the counsel I give you, and with that I bade you a good night."

 

Smiling gently as he waved Hogan out of the room, Odin turned away.  "And may only sweet dreams disturb our slumbers."

 

Hearing his boots snap against the store floors of the audience chamber as he left it, Hogan rested one hand on the doorframe before he went through it.  "If there is a chance?  Once must take it, Allfather.  Or be broken, for nothing.  A tiger once told me that tale."

 

"I will welcome the opportunity to hear you tell more of them, my friend."

 

"Yes, Allfather.  I am sure there will be more of them.  They came from a most worthy Champion."

 

Thor returned from Midgard with Loki, a handful of years later - just a breath, by Asgardian terms - after helping the Midgardians defeat the Chitauri. Hogan was again reminded of the tiger man and his desire for a chance, just one to prove his worth as Thor became almost humble as he told of how that Champion granted him one in the battle of New York.

 

"Go for broke, eh?"  He had said, and Thor's face had lit up as if he had spoken a hidden message.

 

"Aye, go for broke!  And we won the day!"  Then his face had grown thoughtful.  "How did you come by that knowledge, old friend?"

 

"A little tiger once taught it to me," he said, allowing a grin to cross his face.  And said nothing more.

 

\--30--

**Author's Note:**

> As always, taking a deep breath - somehow, I always end up writing stories that require a ton of research to properly frame the narrative. I would strongly suggest anyone interested in the 442nd/100th during WWII check out the Japanese American National Museum (janm.org) - they're really great people.
> 
> Comments and feedback deeply appreciated. Thank you for reading.


End file.
